We All Contain Wildness

I often encounter people who wear their wild on the outside, warrior-poets, story sorceresses, dancing spirits, punk-hippie goddesses, rowdy raconteurs . . . people who wake you and shake you and leave you a bit more alive for encountering them.

That wildness? It does not just belong to them. It also belongs to YOU. Yes, I see it behind the civilized facade you’ve adopted. Every now and then I see the wild in your gesture, your writing, your art, it sparkles in your eyes, it bubbles up in your laughter.

What would happen if you let it out more often?

What would happen if the wild truth of you was something you felt comfortable sharing with the world?